Souls By Whispering
by Hilariter
Summary: Early in her reign, the Witch grows in power and gathers her forces. One-shot.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, Jadis, Aslan, or anything else within that world. That is the property of C. S. Lewis, long may he be a classic. I also do not own the story of the Ettin giants' fall to the Witch, it is used with permission from elecktrum and the story "Thole". Please read it, it is awesome. The quote belongs to Sarah L. Thompson from her book The Secret of the Rose. My sincere thanks to elecktrum for the Ettins and to warrior4 for his encouragement and help. _

**"The devil walks like a man... You said he gets souls by whispering…_"_**

She sat in her silent castle of rock and ice and snow. Jadis could be utterly patient when it served her purpose, balanced by a razor sharp temper and lightning fast action. She sat in her fortress and waited. The last queen of Charn was a ruthless leader. She knew well the draw of power, and her own power was growing. Jadis still breathed shallowly and slow, the poisonous scent of the thrice-accursed Tree of Protection still lingering on the cold air. She allowed herself a mirthless, shrewd smile. The only protection the great Cat had left this pitiful excuse for a land had fallen as easily as crushing a mind.

The queen gazed around the hall. Her eyes narrowed. She stood quickly. Seizing a waiting bowl of water she swept around the edges of the room, dropping a bead of water at regular intervals. Returning to the sickly translucent green throne, Jadis stood on the dais and looked out over the hall again. Closing her eyes, she began to chant and slowly raised her arms straight out in front of her. Each drop of water swelled and flattened into a perfect square pane, increasing in height with the raising of her arms. Soon the columns of water reached the high ceilings. With a final word, the queen snapped her hands into fists and opened her eyes. The flash-frozen columns of ice lined the throne room, tall and imposing and cold.

Witch, they called her. A term for fools and the superstitious. True, her powers were diminished and changed. The witch had been given ample time to study and examine the Deep Magic at the heart of this world. A weak world it was, with few natural sorcerers. A royal line devoid of magic, herbalist dryads, star-gazing centaurs, and fallen stars in the far Eastern oceans: these were no match for her long heritage and training. Oh yes, but for the Tree, Narnia would have been hers many years before. Let them call her Witch. She would be strong and names mattered little when said with fear.

The queen closed her eyes again and felt along the edges of her conquest. There was still a wide ring around the stump of the Tree. No matter, its effect would soon be lost forever. After only a few months, the Western Wilds and much of western Narnia were covered by her winter. Spreading from her stronghold on the lake, her weapons of cold and snow brought the land under her control.

Cold, indeed… Cold was the perfect weapon against Narnia and its people. These frivolous creatures could make a game out of anything, but they thrived on summer, spring, and the strong young sun. Their liege lord was the embodiment of warmth and light. Yes, cold and dark were the keys to crushing Narnia. She had seen it before. Any force could withstand loss, hardship, shortages, and other obstacles for leader and cause. It was an old principle, but true: remove their faith, hope, and love and no one would stand.

The Ettins had been so easy to turn. Already corrupt, already discontented with the lot assigned them by the Lion. They had ruined themselves long ago, interbreeding and trusting in Adam's blood. Her beauty and majesty held their king in thrall. He was ready to do her will even before she promised glory such as they once had and a place at her side, no less than the rule of Narnia itself. She despised them. On Charn they would have been eliminated as immediately as a rabid dog, and with less sympathy. The queen greatly anticipated the day she could dismiss them back to the northlands to fester and rot in their own filth, possibly to eliminate themselves.

The silence in the hall was broken by muffled footsteps outside the great doors. Jadis did not flinch as a sharp knock echoed through the newly built columns. She barked out the order "Enter." One of the doors swung aside, admitting a young Minotaur who stopped just inside. He bowed low until her command "Approach" brought him to the foot of the dais steps. He knelt and kept his eyes averted even when allowed to speak. He had word of a clan of Black Dwarves, representatives waiting for an audience with the queen if permission was granted. "Let the come." The Minotaur hastened away.

She watched him go, disinterested. Minotaurs were more acceptable than Ettins and easier to entice. Territorial and battle-hungry, they had been feuding between tribes and between individuals for many years. She had watched them carefully, feeding their desire for different and better opponents by sending Ettins onto their land to be slaughtered. She enjoyed the ruthless killings as much as the Minotaurs. After killing the leader of the largest tribe, she subjugated the rest of the tribes and added their numbers to her army. Promises of greater battles and wider lands won them over fully. But Jadis ruled through power and fear rather than goodwill.

The Black Dwarves were announced and admitted. They bowed only slightly, Jadis noticed with a flash of temper. She mentally stilled herself. There would be time to quell their impertinence later. She nodded to the leader, allowing speech.

One dwarf stepped forward and nodded. "You are the one responsible for bringing on the winter?" he asked, insolent and aggressive.

The Minotaur moved forward to punish the dwarf for daring to threaten her Majesty the Queen. Jadis stopped him with a raised hand. She nodded to the dwarf.

He said, "And you're in charge of these Giants and Minotaurs?"

She nodded again.

The dwarf looked mildly impressed. "Interfering with our crops, your winter is."

"Do not presume to lecture me, dwarf." Jadis stood and towered over the party. The dwarf speaker stood his ground, but just barely. Jadis had seen the urge to flee in his eyes. She sneered. This was no leader. "State your business and waste not my time."

The dwarf stood bravely and asked bluntly, "We came to question you as to your purpose in Narnia as it pertains to me and my clan. We don't need no one interfering with our trade."

Jadis smiled mirthlessly. "The answer is simple. My purpose is complete and utter conquest. I will rule Narnia entirely. For your arrogance, you will swear yourselves to me or be destroyed."

The main dwarf harrumphed, muttering something inane about interfering and left alone and management. Jadis' smile widened. She slowly walked down the stairs of the dais. The dwarf foolishly stood his ground yet again. A foot away from him, the Witch said quietly, "The reward for good service is provisions in the winter. Clothing, prestige, to be kings among your fellows…" She reached out a hand and placed it on the dwarf's shoulder, ignoring his wince. She continued, "…for I can give you power such as you've never imagined." Her voice grew cold and her hand a vise. "The punishment for impudence and disobedience…" The dwarf suddenly stood rigid, growing cold and grey. The Witch quickly drew her hand away as the other dwarves gasped in shock and stared fearfully at the stone statue that had once been their living leader. Jadis eyed another of the dwarves. "Make your choice," she stated as she turned and returned to her throne.

As the dwarves stepped forward one by one to kneel, slice open their hands, and swear fealty to heron their own blood, the Witch contemplated her hand. Turning the dwarf to stone had fatigued and even pained her to a surprising degree. She would have to build a conduit, a bridge for her magic. A simple wand would do, of gold and crystal. She watched the last dwarf spill his blood. She closed her eyes and felt her winter spread and strengthen further across the green plains of Narnia.


End file.
